The signal was given by a fire near the chapel, on which the slaves assembled in great mobs, over-powered their masters, put them in the stocks, and took all the firearms and other weapons they could find. The Governor was already in the neighbourhood with a small party of cavalry, and on seeing the signal proceeded to inquire into its meaning. On the way he was met by an armed mob, who, on being asked what they wanted, answered, "Our right!" He told them of the new law, and promised a full explanation on the morrow if they would disperse and come to him at a neighbouring plantation. There was a slight hesitation for a few moments, but presently, with cries of "No! no!" and the blowing of shells, they drowned his voice. Then some of the more moderate advised him to go away, which he was obliged to do, as his whole company numbered hardly a dozen.
Bearing in mind the disasters of the Berbice insurrection, the people of Georgetown were much alarmed. Placing their women and children on board vessels in the river, the men prepared to resist to the death. Martial law was proclaimed, and every person, without distinction, called upon to enrol at once in the militia, all exemptions being cancelled. They responded heartily, and soon the town put on an appearance as if deserted, except at those places where guards were stationed. The stores were closed, the slaves kept indoors, and, save for the arrival and departure of mounted orderlies, not a sound could be heard. Even the negroes themselves, in their kitchens and outbuildings, were overawed, and hardly spoke above a whisper.
The Methodist ministers came forward and enrolled themselves in the militia, but they were not called upon to perform any duty. The Rev. John Smith, however, took no notice of the proclamation, although he admitted having seen it. On the evening of the revolt he went for a walk with his wife, and on his return found that the manager's house was being attacked by a mob of slaves. He succeeded by expostulation in preventing their doing much injury, and even rescued the manager from their hands, but instead of sending notice of the rising to the neighbouring estates he went quietly home. As far as he knew no one had been warned of the revolt, and he was certainly remiss in his duty when he did nothing whatever. When, on the following day, he was visited by a militia officer, and ordered to enrol himself in accordance with the Governor's proclamation, he refused on the ground of his exemption, although he knew that all exemptions had been cancelled.
As usual the rebels had no proper leaders, and for some reason or other—the missionaries ascribed it to religious teaching—they did not burn the houses or destroy the crops. One or two whites who resisted were wounded, one at least fatally, but here again the insurgents were forbearing. Fortunately they were soon suppressed, and this no doubt prevented such atrocities as had been committed elsewhere. What with the soldiers, the militia, and crews of vessels in the river, the force brought against them was overwhelming. Only one attempt was made to fight, but the first volley of the troops sent the rioters scattering into a cotton field. In about two days the insurrection was over, and then came the hunt for fugitives, who as usual took to the swamp at the back of the estates. A large body of Indians was employed, and in the end most of them were captured, some to be hanged at once and others after sentence by court-martial.
Mr. Smith's behaviour was considered as something more than suspicious—he was believed to have had knowledge of the plot, and charged with an intention to side with the negroes if he saw any prospect of their success. On his refusal to take part in the defence of the colony he was taken prisoner, and after the negroes had been tried and sentenced, his case was brought before a court-martial. He was charged with promoting discontent among the slaves, conspiring to bring about a revolt, knowing of the plot the day before and not reporting it, and holding communication with one of the leaders after it had broken out without attempting to capture him. The case created a great stir, public opinion being universal that he was the prime mover in the whole affair.
His trial lasted over a month, at the end of which he was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged. This sentence, however, seems to have been given to satisfy the people; it was not published, nor was it intended to be executed without reference to the home Government. This is proved by the report in the "Royal Gazette" of the colony, which stated that the trial was over, but the nature of the proceedings was such as to render it imperative on the Governor to transmit them for His Majesty's consideration. The public were not informed of the verdict, but it is not to be supposed that they were ignorant of the result of the trial; on the contrary, the sentence met with their approval, and they complained of the delay in carrying it out, as compared with the hasty executions of the negroes. Mr. Smith was ultimately reprieved, on the understanding that he removed himself from the West Indies, and engaged never to come back to Guiana or go to any of the islands. But the poor missionary was sick, and under treatment before the insurrection, and it may be presumed that the worry of the trial hastened his end. He died in prison before the king's answer arrived, and was buried at night to prevent a hostile demonstration.
We have been thus particular in giving the facts of the Demerara East Coast Insurrection, because it made such an impression in England. The anti-slavery party used the case of the "Martyr" Smith as a watchword, and it was a prime factor in hurrying on emancipation. The immediate result was an Order in Council to enable slaves to contract legal marriage, to hold property, to buy their freedom on a valuation by disinterested parties, and to put them under a Protector, whose duty was to see that their rights were not infringed. They were now citizens, their only civil disabilities being compulsory labour and a tie to the plantation or their masters.
This, however, did not satisfy the anti-slavery party, and they went on with their struggle for total emancipation, in which they at last succeeded. In 1833 an Act of Parliament was passed, by which, after the 1st of August, 1834, slavery was to give place to an apprenticeship of four or six years, according to the status of the slave, the former term for house-servants and the latter for labourers on the plantations, or "predials." Every child born after that date was to be entirely free, and here came in one of the greatest blemishes of the law. These poor infants belonged to nobody; their mothers cared little for them, and it could not be expected that the planters would pay to keep up the old system of superintendence. Even those who had been instrumental in getting the law passed now began to make comparisons between the position of the child-bearing woman under the old and new systems. Hitherto they were unable to find words harsh enough to use in condemning slavery—now they began to find that it had its good points. Then the new system required new administrators, and, to prevent any suspicion of bias, magistrates were brought from England. Yet these very same unbiassed gentlemen ordered flogging for the men and the treadmill and dark cell for the women. The Quaker delegates sent out to inspect the result of their work were horrified. They said that the cat was worse than the old whip, and that the apprenticeship system caused ten times more suffering than slavery.
And such was really the case. The negroes could no longer be kept under subordination—they even claimed entire freedom at once. Several disturbances took place before they could be made to understand that they had to work seven and a half hours every day, to pay for their homes, provision grounds, and other allowances. In Demerara the Governor addressed them as erring children, telling them that they could not all be masters, and that every one must work. They had never seen a white man handle the shovel or the hoe—he was free—now they had attained to the same condition, the same coveted freedom from hard labour must be theirs also. True, there were free negroes, some of whom had learnt trades, but even they were above working in the field. Why should free negroes work? Certainly not for their wives and children. The women got their allowances, and the planter had hitherto looked after the children. The negro had no house rent to pay, his two suits of clothing came regularly every year, and if he was sick the doctor attended to him. Except to deck himself with finery, he had no use for money; a few would work overtime when they wanted something of that sort, but the majority did as little as possible.
